


delight in disorder

by lady_gt



Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: Dream Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, inappropriate use of tel'aran'rhiod
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24198517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_gt/pseuds/lady_gt
Summary: Ba'alzamon is determined to show Rand al'Thor the things he might have if he chooses to join the Dark One's forces.
Relationships: Rand al'Thor/Ishamael | Moridin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 5





	delight in disorder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YoukoKoenma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoukoKoenma/gifts).



They've been traveling for a while now. Rand has lost track of the days since they left the Two Rivers - day and night blend together seamlessly now, and all that matters is that they have to keep going. At least that's what Moiraine tells them. They stop at another inn tonight, one that Rand will forget the name of soon enough.

"Light, I'm tired," says Mat. "And I wish we'd at least get some privacy now that we've got a place to stay."

Perrin reaches up to smooth dark, curly hair away from his face. "We were told safety in numbers. Moiraine thought it safer if we all stayed together in a room."

"Well, I think it's just more than a little suffocating. I need to go back downstairs. Entertain myself a little." Mat stretches his arms above his head and paces across the room, floorboards creaking beneath his boots. Rand sits on the bed as an observer to all of this - he, too, is tired but he just wants some rest. And at least they're all safe here.

 _For now,_ a voice in the back of Rand's head reminds him. He freezes up a little. That voice didn't sound much like his own.

"Have fun downstairs. Just don't take any girls with us on the way once you finish," says Rand.

"Hey! I'm not _that_ much of an idiot."

Rand turns on his side, listening to Mat's footsteps fade away into the distance as he makes his way downstairs. Though he hasn't even bothered to undress he's already feeling his eyelids drooping, and slumps down on the bed.

"Going to sleep so soon?" Perrin asks.

"Yes. It's been a long day."

"I'll make sure to be quiet so as not to disturb you."

Perrin can't see it because he's facing the other way, but his words make Rand smile. "Thank you."

"Sleep well."

"I will." With that, Rand closes his eyes and quickly falls asleep.

* * *

Rand's falling.

There's a pitch-black darkness looming all around him, threatening to swallow him up. He reaches out only for his fingers to grasp around empty air - there is nothing for him to cling onto, no rope, no hand to hold his. He's completely and utterly alone and going to... to die? To fall forever? But through his fear, Rand remembers that this is only a dream. He fell asleep back at the inn room, this is just a nightmare, he needs to wake up.

But he doesn't.

He _keeps_ falling and it terrifies him. He doesn't know where he'll end up or what will happen and for a split second Rand wonders if this may be real. _Wake up,_ he pleads to himself. _Wake up and let this be over. Please._

That's when Rand feels fingertips brush against his - a hand is reaching out for him. He takes it-

"We meet again, Lews Therin Telamon."

-And immediately wishes he hadn't.

He recognizes the voice. He knows this man (or maybe that's too kind a word for the likes of him) from his dreams before. The man pulls him up so he's something close to standing in the dark. The worst part is his eyes, as dark as the void surrounding the both of them. A chill sweeps over Rand and even though he tells himself this is just another awful dream, he can't help but shake violently.

"Ba'alzamon," he manages. His tongue feels stuck in his mouth. _Please let me wake up. Please let me wake up._

He forces himself to speak and when he does his voice shakes. "My name is Rand al'Thor, Father of Lies."

"You know I am not Shai'tan, Lews Therin - and it doesn't matter what name you use. I know you from all the times the Wheel has turned before."

"I don't care who you are. But I won't join your side."

The void suddenly begins to shift and melt away. Rand is uncomfortably aware of the fact that while this is indeed a dream (no dream would ever change this much), everything is so unbearably real. That's when he feels the cool, soft bedsheets beneath his arms, the plushness of the mattress. He tries to move, but his movements are sluggish and slow - a sudden warmth comes over him that's dizzying. In spite of the fear Rand feels, the warmth is overpowering and borderline comforting.

Ishamael sits on top of him, legs straddled over Rand's prone form. Rand turns his head to the side so that he's not looking at Ba'alzamon but is instead looking at the fabric of the pillow.

"It's a shame you're so stubborn, Lews Therin. So unwilling to accept the truth. But it's there, you need to understand... and wouldn't you make such a pretty picture pressed into the mattress like this?"

Rand lets out a strangled gasp. He's not sure whether it's the warmth that fills him or whether it's his own fatal curiosity, but he does want something like this. Still, it's not as though he'd ever admit it to the likes of Ba'alzamon.

He tries to shift on the bed, to avert his eyes from Ba'alzamon. But then come the fingers pressing at his chin, tilting his head up and forcing him to look into dark, foreboding eyes.

"Look at me," Ba'alzamon whispers. "A shame that all that power will go to waste because you bothered to fight for the wrong side. And such a beautiful body wasted, too..."

Though the fear Rand feels is almost overwhelming, there's curiosity there, too. He stiffens when he feels Ba'alzamon begin to close the gap between them. His breathing comes out quick and shallow.

"Let me show you all that you'll miss."

His lips close over Rand's half-open mouth, teeth clicking against his and tongue slipping past his lips. The kiss is a breathtaking one, leaving Rand trembling faintly beneath him. A little humiliated, Rand realizing that he's growing hard and whimpers into Ba'alzamon's mouth, struggling to take in air as Ba'alzamon bucks against him. He tastes faintly sweet of white wine he must have been drinking, so overpowering with Rand yet so smooth all the same. And yet, though the kiss feels good (even though Ba'alzamon holds into his shoulders with a viselike grip), Rand knows of Ba'alzamon's intentions and doesn't want anything to do with them.

 _Light_ , Rand thinks when he feels a pressure at his groin, _he's getting hard. I'm getting hard..._

"You would be nothing if you served the many, Lews Therin - accept it. And you will be nothing if you keep going on like this. Wouldn't that be unfortunate?"

He leans into the cruel hands (once painted with blood and as far as Rand knows maybe they still are) that caress his face. Ba'alzamon presses his mouth down again not to Rand's lips but to his jaw, leaving rough kisses all along his skin. The sudden departure from Rand's mouth to his skin makes him gasp and he reaches up one hand to seize at Ba'alzamon's dark hair.

"I'm not nothing just because you make me out to b- nnhh!" Rand seizes up when he feels teeth grazing gently at his neck. He practically melts at the feeling of Ba'alzamon sucking at the tender patch of skin caught between his lips, shaking a little. Rand feels a tongue trace and lave at the now sensitive mark, dipping at each concave that his teeth make.

"So malleable in my arms, Lews Therin. Can you imagine what might go on when you wake up and your friends see my handiwork? What would they think seeing the bite marks I've made scattered all across your skin? The marks that could have you designated as mine?"

Rand has no answer for Ba'alzamon's words, and it looks as though he won't need one. He writhes around as much as he can beneath Ba'alzamon, then tenses up once more when he feels him exhale softly against the bite marks still wet with saliva. The sensation is cold.

"I don't-" he tips his head back to give Ba'alzamon better access, letting him nip at his neck, "- I don't know what they'd think of me."

"And I don't think that's something you ought to worry about, Lews Therin."

 _It does feel good,_ Rand admits faintly to himself. But Light he's not going to let Ba'alzamon know, and removes his hands to stuff his knuckles into his mouth, biting down hard enough on the skin so that he might have a chance at stifling his cries.

"There's no reason to keep it quiet here, Lews Therin. It's not as though anyone here can hear you - maybe your friends out there might overhear you? But I'm certain that they'll have reason enough to believe it's just an ordinary dream."

A soft whine manages to escape him when Ba'alzamon's mouth leaves his neck. He feels a hand reach down to untuck his shirt and roam the skin there, smooth save for a few faint scars. The touch is feather light; Rand feels his muscles clench up when the cool air kisses his exposed skin.

"You were always sensitive, Lews Therin. Age after Age..."

The edge of his finger traces one of Rand's nipples in slow, concentrated circles through his shirt, sending a shiver down his spine. Rand closes his eyes when the dark-haired man leans down again, warm breath fanning against his ear. He speaks in a deep, sultry, almost comforting voice.

"Some things really do stay the same."

He pushes Rand's shirt further up, sending the fabric bunching up around his chest. He inhales sharply when he feels Ba'alzamon pinching and twisting at one nipple with sedated, gentle movements; after a moment he lowers his head and licks a quick stripe down the other. There's something in the way he _laughs_ listening to the noises Rand lets out: Low and soft, smug with victory watching him so pliable beneath him.

That's when Rand opens his eyes and feels the other hand dipping lower and lower, past his stomach and into his smallclothes. Long fingers press at his cock ever-so-slightly and Rand sucks in a breath.

"Doesn't that feel good?" He trails his tongue over Rand's nipple again. The only response he's able to give is a weak nod of his head.

Ba'alzamon tugs his cock. Rand removes his hand from his mouth, grimacing for a moment at the sight of saliva glistening on his skin. Meanwhile, Ba'alzamon is torturous with his work on Rand's chest: twisting and teeth scraping at him so that it's almost painful. But (and this is something Rand really, _really_ doesn't want to admit to himself) he likes the pain, too. And at last giving up in the battle of self-control, Rand lets out a soft, needy moan.

"You don't remember, Lews Therin? You don't remember the countless lives we spent together before?" Ishamael moves his mouth and hand away from Rand's chest.

"I don't..."

"You were always so... vulnerable. So desperate to have someone take the reins with you and be the one in control. It was always so incredible to see you come undone in my hands, a knot in your stomach that only I could unravel. You need me as I need you - we're two halves of the same whole. But you would never accept the truth in those lives before."

With a pang of irritation, Rand remembers what exactly Ba'alzamon is trying to do. But it's so faint in the back of his mind compared to the overwhelming pleasure that's building up in him. So he listens to his own labored breathing as Ba'alzamon rolls off of him to pull down his trousers and smallclothes. In one deft movement he spreads Rand's legs apart and grasps his now erect cock. Rand bites down on his lip at the sudden movement, once more determined not to make any noise again.

He forgets about keeping quiet once more when Ba'alzamon starts to move his hand and pump his cock, thumb circling the head. Rand reaches down to ball up the sheets in his fists, letting out a soft, keening cry at the feeling of long, almost spindly fingers touching him. He's slick with pre-cum in Ba'alzamon's hands, trembling beneath him. Through the warmth that's engulfed him he can feel sweat forming on his skin, causing friction against his clothes.

"Already hard, too. That was another thing about you that hasn't changed, Lews Therin. It didn't take much. And it still doesn't, I see." His tongue darts out to lick a stripe down the head of Rand's cock. "It was always a sight to see: You flushed and _pleading_ beneath me for more, desperate for my touch."

His mouth is warm and wet on Rand's cock. Ba'alzamon sucks at him softly, hands keeping his legs spread apart. He gives a low purr at the series of stifled moans and whimpers Rand lets out.

"Ba'alzamon-" he says, "-Please - you're - I - light - ah-"

Ba'alzamon continues, tongue laving against the sensitive flesh of Rand's cock. He doesn't respond to Rand's exclamations, simply savoring the moment. Heat begins to build up in Rand's abdomen and he tenses up-

Then Ba'alzamon pulls away to leave Rand very breathless, very flustered, and impatient beneath him.

"You're just about ready to come, I can see." He strokes a hand against Rand's thigh and his body sings in pleasure. "Is it really worth it? Defying me - defying fate - when you could gain so much more at my side? When you won't have this?"

Rand doesn't answer him. Instead what comes out is, "Please let me come."

He hears a rustle of clothing being taken off. A small, innocuous green bottle falls from out of nowhere into Ba'alzamon's hand. He pops off the cork and coats his fingers in the substance. On the brink of release, Rand waits - he doesn't want to be left like this, so desperate to find relief.

"I know how you like your pleasure served with pain, Lews Therin. But there's only so much pain I want to cause you."

Ba'alzamon's voice is soft and plaintive, almost sympathetic. For a moment it makes Rand seem to sympathize with and understand him. Then he feels the slick fingers prodding at his entrance.

He closes his eyes to the feel of fingers twisting around inside of him, pushing, prodding, stretching him open. It's a strange thing to feel in a place like this. Slowly, Rand's muscles begin to unclench once more, fingers that had once grabbed tight hold of the sheets uncurling and relaxing. He's just about used to the feeling of Ba'alzamon's fingers inside of him when he feels something prod at a certain spot inside of him. His eyes go wide at the unfamiliar but pleasant sensation.

"I can serve you like this, Lews Therin," croons Ba'alzamon. "I can give you pleasure."

Rand sucks in a breath at the feeling of a cock at the puckered hole of his entrance. Ba'alzamon takes his time, slowly pushing his way inside of Rand to fill him to the brim. It's not quite painful but it's something Rand isn't particularly used to: Unfamiliar, much larger than Ba'alzamon's fingers just were. Then comes the sudden brush against the cluster of nerves inside of him and he yelps, reaching up to grab hold of Ba'alzamon by the shoulders.

"So, so desperate for me. Like all those times before..."

He's unbearably slow and rough in his movement, slowly pulling his way out before ramming back in again. He edges Rand on, seeming delighted to watch him tremble and grow flustered beneath him. Ba'alzamon begins to moan, the noises escaping his mouth overlapping with Rand's desperate tones.

"L-" Any coherent words escape him when Ba'alzamon slams back inside of him. He's reduced to a pleading, crying mess only able to experience pleasure, unable to vocalize anything save for half-uttered curses and desperate cries. He locks his legs around Ba'alzamon's waist, digging his nails into his shoulders.

"You're beautiful," he says, leaning down to give another light nip to Rand's neck. "So desperate to relinquish control in times like these."

Rand doesn't respond, simply clenching his legs tighter around Ba'alzamon and letting his hands wrap round him. He squeezes at Rand's hips lightly - Rand is quite the sight beneath him, red hair tangled and sweaty, face flushed pink and eyelids flickering. He can't stop shivering, lips forming around hoarse moans, thrusting back sharply as Ba'alzamon's cock pleasures him. He doesn't know what to think anymore, simply gasping and desperate for release as Ba'alzamon takes him. So he closes his eyes and empties his mind, allowing himself to focus on nothing more than the pleasure.

His cock twitches. He's close, so close-

"Go on, Lews Therin. Let go."

Ba'alzamon squeezes hold of Rand by the hips so tightly he might leave a bruise, hot seed spilling into Rand. There's a moment where he comes back long enough just to process the feeling of warmth and wetness inside of him, painting the inside of him in thick, viscous white. Then Rand comes, feeling his own seed spurt against his stomach, sticky and coating his skin. The pleasure sweeps over him and Rand lets go of Ba'alzamon's shoulders amidst the reverie, falling back against the bed. 

It takes a while for him to return from the high. He almost doesn't notice Ba'alzamon pulling out of him, bending over him to tuck his hair away from his face and trace his fingers against the curve of his jaw. Rand shakes beneath him, fear and anger beginning to return. He knows what Ba'alzamon wants from him - it's the very reason he's here in the first place.

"I will not fight for the Shadow," he spits out. "I never will."

"Then don't. Pick your own battles. But are you sure that even with what you're fighting for you'll get what you want in the end?"

Rand doesn't answer the question.

"Because," murmurs Ba'alzamon, "I don't think you will."

* * *

Rand wakes up with a gut-wrenching gasp.

He can hear Perrin snoring in the dark of the room. Frantic, he looks p at the low walls and feels the cramped, lumpy bed beneath him. His breathing comes out slow and deep. He is safe.

The details of his dream come back to him: Wanton and submitting to Ba'alzamon, crying out in pleasure because of him. Then he feels the sudden pain in his entrance, feels the stickiness coating his smallclothes. 

_So perhaps it wasn't a dream after all._

Rand thinks about the words Ba'alzamon murmured to him: Such sweet, tempting words trying to beckon him to join Shai'tan's side. He wouldn't do that. He would fight his own fight, he knew that he had a purpose and he was going to fulfill it. He will stay on the side of the Light.

Rand doesn't bother to step out of bed in spite of the discomfort. The thoughts of betrayal, of turning to the Shadow still loom large in his mind. So, hoping that no one heard him for the duration of his dreaming, he stares up from where he's reclined against the bed at the ceiling in the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> (can we get rand a shirt that says "ba'alzamon's bottom bitch" on it? please??? pleeeeaase?)
> 
> i gifted a taim/rand fic to this author but bc i got too embarrassed abt it and unmarked it anyways here's this as like. a make-up gift since i read a moridin/rand fic of theirs that was just *chef's kiss* hghfgbgfbfg 👉👈
> 
> this was. both rly hard but also rly fun to write??? idk listen the world is just sadly lacking ishamael/rand smut and im just a simple fic writer that had to contribute. also i may or may not have put in my hc that ishamael and lews therin mightve been lovers in past lives (marge simpson voice) i just think its neat


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